


Just Breathe

by Raven_Knight



Series: 2018 Autumn OTP Challenge - Multifandom [12]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bones is sick and not happy about it, Gen, Humor, McCoy & Chapel BFFs, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 18:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Knight/pseuds/Raven_Knight
Summary: Despite being a genius when it comes to medicine, sometimes the old ways are the only ways to get things done.





	Just Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. This piece, archived at Archive of Our Own (Ao3), is purely a non-commercial work of fiction from which I am not profiting in any way. This work may not be reproduced, archived, or redistributed by any means and/or in any format without prior written permission from me. Permission may be obtained by contacting me at r4v3n.kn1ght@gmail.com. 
> 
> This series of oneshots belong to the 2018 Autumn OTP Challenge, though I have done away with the OTP part of it and focus instead on either romantic ships I ship or platonic relationships that fit the prompt given. This oneshot is in response to prompt #12: Witchcraft. ~ RK

**Just Breathe**  
**By  
** **Raven Knight**

The door to the Chief Medical Officer’s private office hissed open as Head Nurse Christine Chapel approached, datapad in hand. “Doctor, you have the physicals for the new transfers scheduled for this morning and—” She looked at the desk, expecting to see the already-irritated glare of—“Doctor McCoy!” she cried, the medical schedule forgotten as she rushed forward to the C.M.O. who was hunched over his desk with a towel draped over his head.

A muffled groan from under that towel was the only response her alarm received.

“Are…are you awake?”

A different muffled groan from the towel. It was then that her nose registered the strong fragrance centered around the doctor.

Chapel crossed her arms in disapproval. “Leonard, are you hungover?” Her eyes watered at the intense scent permeating the office.

“Nurse, if I were hungover, my face would be _in_ this stuff, not just above it.”

That piqued her curiosity. Chapel slowly approached the strange sight of the covered, hunched McCoy and took in the two empty hypos near his left hand, the endless scattering of crumbled tissues all over the desk, the tissue box near his right hand, and the two small brown bottles next to the tissue box. Moving as silently as possible, like in the I.C.U. ward near sleeping patients, she picked up one bottle and then the other to read their contents. The labels were handwritten. _Eucalyptus Oil. Peppermint Oil._ “Please tell me you didn’t drink these.”

The towel sighed. “Does it smell like I drank them?”

“No.”

The towel nodded once. “No is right, Nurse.” McCoy blindly reached for the tissue box and the next clean tissue, pulled it free, and snuck it to his face under the towel. Chapel tried not to grimace in pity at the wet and sluggish sound of McCoy blowing his obviously blocked nose. However, from the sound of it, some of the blockage had been removed that time. “All my modern medicine and expertise, and nothing works for goddamn congestion. It’s witchcraft to the rescue,” he lamented, voice stifled by the towel and illness. After a small rustle, McCoy blindly tossed the used tissue onto the desk to land wherever it landed. The towel angled slightly in Chapel’s direction. “Now that you know I’m just doing a little self-medicating, you can stop fussing and leave me and my old-time remedies alone.”

Chapel quietly put the oils back by the tissue box. “Would you like me to take care of those physicals?”

The towel nodded over the bowl of hot water and steaming oils. “That would be mighty kind of you, Chris.”

Chapel shook her head at the reemergence of his thick Southern accent. “I’ll check on you afterwards.”

He lifted the fingers of his right hand in a weak, tired wave. “I’ll be here.”

Chapel tucked the datapad under her arm and left Doctor McCoy to his witchcraft.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you thought or hit that kudos button if you're shy. ~ RK


End file.
